One mistake too many
That\'s what they said
I was too blind to see
I was already dead
If pain is art, it is poetic
On that regard, I\'m no skeptic
For poems and art both haunt
Leaving me pale faced and gaunt
Drip,drop,ring,ding,boom
The final hours of my doom
Words unmeant, I wish they were feeble
But hearts they shattered, leaving dull
Sun setting on the broken kingdom
Loss after loss, victim after victim
The end of the shadowed prince
Leaving a simple art, poetic-like SILENCE